Am. So. Tired.
But still alive, so NOTHING to complain about.
My guts are still in a tumble, and my belly is still swollen and sticking out, but if the inflammation goes down more I may avoid surgery. My energy levels are still incredibly low, yes, even lower than when I am going through a depressive episode, but since I can attribute it to something I am taking it marginally better.
My neck hurts. Always. And if I don't pay attention and wind up guarding it my back pain winds up excrutiatingly bad. 6 days out of 7 I have a pretty good attitude about constant, ridiculous, ongoing pain but by day 7 I'm not so optimistic, especially since I can't take the edge off with any painkillers (hello ulcer) and drinking is not an option (what am I, really stupid?) and I can't just run my head into a wall to knock myself out (that would exacerbate the neck injury, me thinks).
My birthday is coming up so of course I'm getting all introspective and miserable. This health chapter of my life started the end of April and has eaten up four months of my time. I always get down on myself this time of year and not really doing anything for so a long time has left me antsy. Where is my "career" going? Why is it so hard to find decent friends? Why did I make it another year still being 20 lbs overweight? WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?
What the hell indeed.
Tonight I am sitting home alone because I am too tired to even attempt to find someone to do something with and instead I am probably going to fall asleep while the sun is still out only to wake up to back and neck spasms at which time I will watch basic cable infomercials until I fall asleep again. But even for all of this I cannot stress enough: I am still alive. And that is very, very good.